Outside Closed Doors
by FireWithinMidnight
Summary: Companion piece to Beyond Closed Doors, it contains snippets focused on other situations not seen in the story or from another point of view. Updates after Beyond Closed Doors.


_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own Tales of the Abyss and the characters that appear in the game. I do not earn any money from this story. Unbeta'd._

* * *

_Master Van_

Dorian Commander Grants watched his student, Asch, training tirelessly the Albert style with satisfaction.

Asch was a shoe-in for a promotion to God-General, he had the reputation and the strength for the position. With Malkuth and Kimlasca-Lavandear recruiting soldiers heavily for an incoming war, creating a new slot for another God-General was going to be kid's play. Asch would survive and help him create a world free from the Score.

If just he could stay to mentor his real student, instead of having to take care of an inferior replica...

Suddenly, Asch's sword fell on the floor. Asch himself was clutching his right hand and staring at it like it wasn't part of his body.

He couldn't even twitch his fingers.

No word was uttered by either of them. The implication was clear, to give it a voice meant making it utterly definitive and real.

It all passed within moments. Asch was soon ready to pick the sword up again to keep on training, but he was visibly distracted. He'd frown at invisible things and his movements weren't as fluid and studied as before.

For a second, Dorian Commander Grants saw the plans of a lifetime crumble to pieces before his very eyes. He compelled himself to stay in the room, watch Asch train and tell himself it was impossible, Asch should have started showing _those_ symptoms years ago and not that moment. It couldn't be anything important, just a coincidence. There was no precedence.

The training session passed slowly, neither of them really paying any attention to their work plan.

* * *

_Guy Cecil_

It was supposed to be a quick assignment out of Baticul. He just had to deliver whatever Van had entrusted to him to a specific person in Kaitzur Naval Port "on behalf of House Fabre". Once it was all done, he was to go back to Baticul immediately.

Then the city was put under lockdown. No one could leave or enter, the soldiers were making sure of it. Guy himself had been already interrogated about his presence and intentions, though they let him go once they confirmed he was a servant of House Fabre.

Everyone was a suspect of a crime he didn't know. Any noble who was still in Kaitzur when the place was locked down was kept separated from other families and their own servants. Guy had been given a cot and told to look for a place to sleep somewhere. Any ship still on the dock was vacated patrolled. The only good thing was the Score had predicted a warm night and no rain.

That was bad. That was incredibly bad. For all he knew, the cover Van had procured back at Fabre manor was going to expire before he could leave the Naval Port. That would put his loyalty to House Fabre under question, which would also attract attention on why a servant of House Fabre was so far from Baticul and not on the order of Duke Fabre.

Most soldiers were just obeying orders and carried no information he could retrieve and plan on. It left him in the ugly situation to sit and wait until things either cleared up or went down the drain.

And even worse, there was a group of girls who just didn't want to leave him alone. It's like they could smell his fear and wanted to capitalize on it!

* * *

_Crimson Herzog fon Fabre_

Could the day get _any_ worse?

His son Luke was throwing a tantrum _for the umpteenth time_ since Dorian Commander Grants' duties had taken precedence over him. His complaints had gotten so bad Duke Fabre had him expelled from the Drawing Room on the pretence of a meeting with important political identities.

It wasn't true, but the news he had received justified his line of action: a Malkuthian councilman had been assassinated in his own room.

While the death itself wasn't important power wise, the setting around it painted a dangerous message: the assassination had taken place in the core of the Malkuthian defence and no one was any the wiser until the body was found.

Malkuthian citizens were confused and afraid. It simply _should have not happened_, specially _not like this_. The assassin could have targeted the Emperor just as easily, and then...

Rumours were already floating around and blaming the death on Kimlasca-Lanvaldear. That wasn't good: tensions were already high after unprovoked skirmishes in Kaitzur. Both parties swore on their honour they hadn't launched the first attack and, after days and days of research, someone proposed the idea that a third party had sparked the battle.

However, the only third party that could have the necessary resources to pull such stunt was the Order of Lorelei.

Duke Fabre didn't like the implications of this matter.

Yet for now there was no proof or strong evidence to condemn anyone. The mysterious killer had vanished before anyone could realize his or her presence and war was looming on the horizon two years earlier than the Score had predicted.

_Two years from now..._

He had tried to prevent his son's destiny. Nonetheless, he had been spirited away and then found with no memories. After that, he grew up selfish and spoiled without showing any characteristic of the old Luke.

It had been a foolish battle. The Score had prevailed in the cruellest method possible for him.

Duke Fabre decided to let go the last instructors he still had employed and went back to his work.

* * *

_Uknown_

He was _furious!_ His information had suggested him the perfect window of opportunity to carry out his assignment and kill the princess of Kimlasca-Lanvaldear, _however_ he had stumbled in the garden of some noble's mansion nowhere close to the princess!

Now the princess with the bleeding heart for the poor people was somewhere in the city. _Somewhere_ didn't cut it. He needed her in a specific place or everything would break down.

It didn't matter. The opportunity had come and gone, it was again time to wait for the target to show up in position.

Though he was getting paranoid; steps and splashes seemed to reverberate in the dark corridor...


End file.
